Allow me to (re)introduce myself. Hi. My name is Lacey.
We used to be great friends. Oh, we played with sleds, we built snowmen full of grass and mud. We listened to the SnowBird theme as we drifted off to sleep.
Then, you apparently made it your 2014 resolution to stay North or even FURTHER SOUTH than Tennessee. And look, I don’t blame you. It revels in all its landlocked glory. I, too, like to escape to the beach at least once per year. So I feel ya.
But this is getting out of hand.
I feel like we are never, ever, ever getting back together.
I teach first grade. I love those kiddos, and I truly think they love me. However, by one o’clock in the afternoon, we are ready for some SEPARATION.
(Real talk: If I am with my husband since 7 a.m., by one o’clock we both need some space, too).
Separation that requires running all those wiggles out,
saying screaming all those whispers, and getting some much-needed Vitamin D.
Tennessee has had below-freezing temperatures for WEEKS ON END, which is your favorite kind of weather, Snow. But, you see, I can’t go outside with my young’ins in that weather. Yet, you are nowhere to be found.
However, as soon as we reach a balmy THIRTY-FOUR DEGREES, your buddy precipitation shows.
And you? Well, you arrive.
All the while, students and teacher look longingly out the window and think “Oh, the blizzard this would be.”
Now, I don’t want my friends who see you in forecast and worry that they’re risking their lives to get to work. Just enough for me to cash in on those snow days that my friends and I go thirty bonafied extra minutes per day to earn (and feel no shame in gloating when they happen, sorry (not sorry) y’all).
Oh, and by the way, I see you long-range forecasts. Shame on you if you fool me once, shame on me if you fool me for the 256th time.
Bottomline: If you don’t show up on my cul-de-sac soon (SATURDAY MORNINGS do not count, by the way. Nice try last week)., I’m going to need to ask your cousin Mr. Freeze to stay away until December.
And while I’m at it, I better get a white Christmas out of this mess next year.
Snow-tally over it,